


Zombie

by Aurora_Nerin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, Angst, Biker Thor (Marvel), F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sadness with a dash of humor, Tattoo Artist Loki, and Thor trying his best, featuring Loki's tragic past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-07-25 07:14:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16192697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_Nerin/pseuds/Aurora_Nerin
Summary: Thor's the only biker on this whole God's green earth that doesn't like tattoos.Loki's the only tattoo artist that doesn't like tattooing. Or people.They don't quite get along...





	1. The Forgotten Realm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebookhunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebookhunter/gifts).



> Wow look at this new multichapter from Straight Outta Nowhere. ^Facepalms. Enjoy!

 

**-Z o m b i e-**

* * *

__

_**“I'd rather die while I'm living than live while I'm dead. ”** _

 

Thor narrows his eyes in suspicion: This can’t be the place. It just can’t. Not with this outrageous decor of blue-on-gold-on-red. Awful. Just _awful_. Makes a man want to tear his eyes out.

 

But it is; Thor rechecks the address on the card in his hand: the one Fandral gave him.

 

It matches perfectly. So does the name: ‘’The Forgotten Realm.’’

 

Thor sighs and pulls out the door, then swears and pushes it (One day he’ll get that right on the first try, you just wait and see!).

 

The tiny bell above the door jingles and the receptionist: a girl in gold-red uniform looks up from the desk, her annoyance turning into awe within a second.

 

‘’How can I be of service?’’ She all but purrs at the blonde.

 

Thor is used to this kind of reaction: he’s barely even phased anymore.

 

‘’I’m looking to get a tattoo,’’ He answers, making a point of out being polite, looking the girl up and down: Curly, black hair past her shoulders, brown, kind eyes, huge breasts bursting out from behind the low cut top. Thor sighs sadly: It’s a pity a pretty girl like that has to wear that horrible thing. She’d be way cuter in sweatshirt and jeans: looks like the type.

 

‘’Got an appointment?’’ The girl asks, looking down, at laptop screen.

 

‘’Um… No.’’ Thor replies. ‘’I’m kinda new to this, you know? But my friend here, gave me this card and told me to come here.’’

 

The girl nods in understanding, smiling. ‘’First time?’’

 

Thor nods, leaning on the counter, smiling down at her.

 

She blushes scarlet.

 

‘’I’d love to help you, but our best artists aren’t that easy to get ahold of,’’ she says, cautiously, ‘’And they’re not cheap, either, I’m afraid.’’

 

‘’I understand,’’ Thor says instantly, ‘’Money is not an issue. I just don’t know what exactly am i looking for and it’s a big deal, you know?’’

 

‘’We do lots of styles here at ‘’Forgotten Realm’’ the girl states, proudly, ‘’Neo, Abst, Japanese, Dotwork, whatever you need.’’

 

Thor has no idea what any of those are.

 

The girl, probably, senses his confusion, which is, frankly, not surprising at all, give how clueless he’s acting; he’s never seen much appeal in coloring up his skin, but almost everyone he knows, has a tat or two; or, more like, couple dozen of them;  He’s probably the one biker on this God’s green earth, that doesn’t see the point in putting some weird-ass drawings on himself that he’ll get bored of eventually anyway.

 

But there’s only so much your best friends can’t convince you of, if they try hard and long enough. Everyone around him seems to be hellbent on getting him to tattoo shop this side of the year.

 

So here he is; feeling like a fish out of water (and into the Goddamn Sahara desert, more like), in this outrageously colored room (the walls are fucking green and red? Like seriously? Green? Red? Just pick a color and run with it, man!), jumping a bit on a sound of buzz coming from back rooms (which is where the magic happens, probably), Scrolling through pages upon pages of different tattoo artist portfolios of all kind and still having no idea why he is here.

 

The bell gives that annoying sound for the fifth time,  probably, when _he_ walks in. Thor drops a glance at the newcomer from corner of his eye and freezes instantly.

 

Seeing heavily tattooed people is nothing new to him: lots of his friends tend to go overboard in that regard. And it’s a freakin tattoo shop too, but this guy… That’s something else entirely; he’s covered. All over. _All_ over: including his face, sides of his head, his entire neck and, when he takes off the leather jacket, Thor draws in a sharp breath.

 

One of the guys hand’s (now he can tell for sure it’s a guy), is entirely covered, the other, left hand, is entirely left blank, like the painter run out of ink and just left it at that, unfinished, without much care. And, _somehow_ , the blank side is creeping Thor out more than the covered rest.

 

‘’Hey, Zombie!’’ the girl greets, cheerfully. ‘’Tough day?’’

 

The boy shakes his head mutely, hangs up his leather jacket and reaches for the robe that’s hanging next to it; the blue-gold one. That’s when Thor realizes: He’s not a client.

 

He’s the artist.

 

‘’Lots of appointments?’’ the girl tries to engage him again, relentless.

 

The boy shrugs and his demeanor seems sad to Thor, dejected somehow. God, can he even talk? Maybe he’s mute? Thor fitgets in place, trying to get the guy’s attention, but when he does, he wishes he didn’t: His eyes are green, the black circles (as in literal black circles, inked in, not the sleepless night black circles) make them stand out even more. Hiis head is shaved from both sides and put up in a bun on the top of his head.

 

‘’Hey man!’’ Thor rushes, trying his best to be friendly. ‘’You work here?’’

 

The guy looks him up and down, without a word.

 

‘’You know, I was looking to get a tattoo, maybe you could help me with something, I’m kinda at a  loss here, like, i’ve wanted to get one for a while but no idea what, it’s the first time and I’m…’’

 

‘’No.’’ The boy says, so unexpected, so cutting and final that it makes Thor flinch.

 

Ok, so two things: For one, the guy can definitely talk. And for another, his voice is… sexy. _Very_ sexy.

 

‘’Why not?’’ Thor challenges, getting over his initial shock fairly quickly (the underworld life tends to get you used to stuff like rejection).

 

‘’I don’t do virgins.’’ He says.

 

Thor gapes, slack-jawed.

 

The guy just walks into back without further explanation though. Thor, at a loss, looks at the girl.

 

‘’He doesn’t.’’ the girl testifies, as if that explains anything.

 

‘’What the hell does that even mean?’’ Thor scoffs, frustrated, the portfolios still in his hand, wondering which one of them is of the guy.

 

‘’He doesn’t do first tattoos on anyone.’’  She clarifies.

 

‘’Why not?’’

 

The girl shrugs, nonchalant.

 

‘’What else doesn’t he do?’’ The blonde scoffs, sarcastic.

 

‘’Fingers, ears, faces, couple tats, colors, bracelets, ready-made designs, replicas,’’ the girl lists like it’s no big deal.

 

Thor wonders how can someone afford to be that picky. Not like this is the only tattoo shop in the freakin city, which is not so big to begin with.

 

‘’What’s his name?’’ Thor asks, ‘’I mean,’’ he hurries to clarify when the girl raises an eyebrow at him, ‘’Which portfolio is his?”

 

‘’The black one,’’ the girl replies, ‘’trust me, you can’t miss it.’’

 

She’s right: Thor hasn’t gone through that one before and he’d sure as hell not miss it.

 

It’s a black, leather-bound journal, a single word ‘‘Zombie’’ written in neat silver letters on top.

 

Thor looks and looks and looks: it’s a fuckin black hole of an album, that’s what it is: so much… black and nothing else. Entire limbs of different shape and size covered all in black, as if someone just dropped the bucket of paint all over them. But at the same time, they’re so… brilliant, so… _unique_. He can’t find any like the other. Each of them tells a different story; both of the owner and of the maker. There are some deep shapes of animals or letters, but Thor can’t even see or read them. They’re only shadows beyond: as if there’s a black curtain pulled over.

 

There’s one tattoo that catches his eye the second he sees it: maybe because it’s white and stands out, but even then, it’s fuckin brilliant: a huge serpent, covering a fair-skinned, lean hand, barely even visible, which makes it even more elegant in Thor’s opinion.

 

Ok, now he knows for sure what he wants: _that_ . Well, not exactly that, but, you know… The guy would probably rip his head off and wear as a keychain if he asked him to do the exact replica of already existing tattoo, even if it was his own design. But, the style… It looks so neat and pleasing and _perfect_.

 

So here’s a thing. Actually two things. One: this is not exactly what he wants and he must get that Zombie boy to agree to do the recap for him. Two: he’s a novice. A virgin, as the guy so gallantly put it ( Not that he’s bitter or something, but, man, no one has called him a fuckin virgin in fifteen years. Not like anyone would dare, unless they had a deathwish.), so he needs to get someone else to tattoo him first. Which is all shades of wrong and ridiculous. So, like, according to that guy and his fucked up distorted morals, now he needs to get a tattoo in order to get one he really wants?

 

 _Fuck him_.

 

Thor fumes all the way back home, picking up speed and clenching his fists around the steering wheel. The print of mysterious artist’s design burning in his back pocket.

 

He’ll find a way, Thor thinks, while unlocking the door to his apartment, kicking of his combat boots, getting himself a beer and dropping down on his couch. He’ll figure something out.

 

Like he always does.

 

\--

 

He calls the number on the card after a week (Not like he’s gathering up the courage ok? Cause he isn’t!).

 

‘’Hello?’’ says the somewhat familiar male voice from the other end of the line. ‘’The Forgotten Realm,’’ tattoo studio, how can I help you?’’

 

‘’Hello, it’s Thor, Thor Odinson,’’ damn why the hell is he nervous? ‘’I wanted to make an appointment with one of your artist this week, if possible?’’

 

‘’Oh, really?’’ The guy asks, a bit too sarcastic for customer service staff member, but it’s a tattoo shop, so what the hell does Thor know what they are like? ‘’Someone in particular?’’

 

‘’Yes,’’ Thor says, pausing, drawing couple more triangles on the paper on his knees, biting his lips. Is the guy’s real name Zombie? Can’t be. Too absurd. But he dives in anyway.

 

‘’The Zombie.’’

 

There’s a silence for a second. For all Thor knows, the guy’s checking the free hours. But he’s got the feeling that is not the case.

 

‘’You got the design figured?’’ The receptionist asks.

 

Thor nods, then facepalms. ‘’Yes,’’ he lies, though he has no idea why.

 

‘’Discussed with the artist?’’ The guy follows him down.

 

‘’Yes.’’ he says again.

 

Then Thor hears a snicker. A _snicker_!

 

‘’Thor Odinson?’’ the guy draws out his name.

 

‘’Yes?’’

 

‘’You’re a fuckin liar, dear.’’

 

Thor gapes.

 

‘’You don’t have nothing discussed.’’

 

‘’Excuse me?’’

 

‘’You’re that virgin guy, aren’t you?’’

 

Thor blushes scarlet.

 

‘’So, Thor,’’ says the familiar voice that _now_ Thor can place and it make him want to crawl into a hole and die. It’s him. God, it’s that guy! Damn his cunt of a luck! What were the chances of that arrogant asshole picking up a random phone call?

 

‘’Listen, mate,’’ he tries to reason. ‘’So, I don’t have it discussed. I looked at your portfolio though, man it’s amazing! And I thought..’’

 

‘’Tsk, tsk, flattery,’’ the other guy sighs. ‘’So unoriginal and dull, Thor.’’

 

‘’I loved the snake design. I want one.’’ Thor cuts in, bravely.

 

Silence. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

 

‘’Saturday, half past twelve.’’ he hears and can’t quite believe his ears. ‘’Don’t be late.’’

 

The line goes dead, having Thor stare at smartphone in his hands in shock, wondering what kind of Twilight Zone has he just landed in.

 

\--

 

Thor’s there at twelve. Or, rather, he’s there quarter to eleven, but realizes how idiotic he’d look sitting in a waiting for for straight up two hours and drives on his bike around the block couple more times. He finds a cute, hipster-y books plus coffee shop, gets himself an espresso, double (he’s not in habit of getting out of bed before midday on weekends, thank you very much!), drinks it so hot he can still feel the burn in his throat hour and half later. Parks his bike, takes a stroll around, buys a pack of cigarettes, smokes two of them, helps an old lady take her groceries up to the third floor ( _What a nice young man you are, dear! Come in have a cup of tea! I have freshly baked apple pie_! (he doesn’t).). Scrolls through facebook couple of times.

 

Then it’s finally time.

 

The shop is just as outrageous as a week ago. The design still blinds him, making him wish he was colorblind.

 

The same girl is minding the counter.

 

‘’Hey!’’ she greets as one would old friend.

 

‘’Hey,’’ says Thor back, his stomach tying itself into knots. ‘’I have an appointment. Odinson, Thor.’’ half-worried that it all will turn out to be a cruel joke of some kind. That the guy didn’t actually write his name down into the list (like he’d have any proof that they talked if that were the case!). Or that he dreamed up the whole conversation in the first place.

 

The girl nods, looks down, checking, then looks up, her eyes wide. ‘’With _him_?’’

 

Thor breathes a sigh of relief and beams, proudly.

 

‘’Oh, man,’’ The girl says, awed, ‘’How did you manage?’’ she whispers, conspiratorial.

 

‘’I’ve no idea,’’ Thor whispers back with a same tone, like he’s the president about to reveal the secret of nuke launch codes to her or something.

 

‘’Yea, wait here, I’ll ask if he’s free,’’ The girl says, disappearing behind the curtain.

 

She appears after a minute beckoning him close, whispering ‘’Good luck sweetie!’’ Into his ear and goes back to her place, laughing her ass off.

 

Thor feels like he’s been set up for some painful and humiliating kind of execution, of which everyone but himself is aware.

 

The room is small and, surprisingly, white. No extra flash. No colors. Nothing. Feels like a breath of fresh air compared to the rest pitiful job on interior design in this place.

 

The tattoo artist is sitting on a plastic char, another one right next to him, small table in the middle, with lots of papers on and black stationary supplies of all kind: markers, pens, pencils of all thickness and size, erasers, sharpeners…

 

‘’Well, then,’’ the guy says, ‘’Sit.’’

 

‘’I’m Thor,’’ he says, holding out a hand and feeling like a moron a second later when the other doesn’t shake it.

 

‘’I know.’’

 

Thor sighs and sits down on the only free chair backwards.

 

‘’And you are?’’

 

‘’Your tattoo artist for today.’’

 

Thor scrowls.

 

‘’It’s customary to say one’s name in return.’’ he says, sounding much like his mother.

 

The guy arches an eyebrow at him. Probably, Thor wouldn’t even see it (or realize he had them to begin with), if they weren’t sitting literally two inches apart.

 

‘’Zombie.’’

 

‘’That can’t be a real name.’’

 

‘’Why not?’’

 

‘’No one in their right mind would call a kid that.’’

 

 _‘’I_ called _myself_ that.’’ The guy, Zombie, cuts, cold.

 

‘’Why?’’

 

He shrugs.

 

‘’So, what are we looking at?’’

 

‘’How old are you?’’

 

 _‘’Zombie’’_ glares at him, annoyed.

 

‘’I didn’t realize this was a blind date and we were playing twenty questions.’’

 

‘’Hey, I’m just tryna make a conversation!’’ Thor protests.

 

‘’Why?’’

 

Thor doesn’t answer. Why indeed? Cause he might just have hots for this weird guy? Is it the mystery? The thrill? Who knows.

 

‘’I want a white tattoo,’’ he says instead, pointing at all the black markers around.

 

Zombie throws him a distasteful glare, like Thor just said he wanted an infinity shaped anus tattooed on his forehead and in pink at that.

 

‘’Black make all the colors.’’ he claims.

 

Well, Thor himself knows something about painting and that statement couldn’t be farther from the truth, but he doesn’t point it out.

 

‘’You work here a long time?’’ he asks instead.

 

‘’You don’t give up, do you?’’ The Zombie asks, more amusement in his voice than bitterness.

 

‘’Nope.’’ Thor smirks. ‘’Surrender isn’t in my nature.’’

The guy looks up from the paper he’s scratching something down on, in a handwriting suited for a MD and laughs. Actually laughs. Thor feels weird kind of butterflies flip in his stomach at the sound: it’s so human. So… warm and nice.

 

After that, Zombie acts less like a whiny brat and more like a professional artist. He takes measurements (Thor decides he wants left hand tattooed, yey!), writes down everything his client has to say, nodding and nibbling the pen every now and then.

 

They say goodbye after an exhausting hour, during which Thor feels like he’s banging head against a brick wall. He drives home, his curiosity still unsated, irrationally worried and annoyed at the world, but  vaguely hopeful and excited at the same time.

 


	2. the price

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is late. Life happened.

 

‘’So,’’ Zombie asks, ‘’Why did you decide to get tattooed?’’

 

It’s their second appointment and they haven’t exchanged any words yet, beside the awkward ‘’hellos,’’ and ‘’How are you’’s. Zombie, it turns out, is a quiet guy; Thor had assumed, from their first encounter, that it was the ‘’I’m better than all of you’’ thing. Granted, he really has the unapproachable asshole niche covered for the both of them, but it isn’t quite that. Thor just has the feeling.

 

So, here they are, sitting in the same small, white room, with different versions of the same sketch laying on the table. Thor examines them closely: They aren’t quite the same, but they’re not _that_ different either, which makes it even harder to choose. Oh, and they’re hand-drawn, all of them, separately, from scratch, not prints of one altered original.

 

The silence stretches and stretches around them. It’s been around an hour. Honestly, Thor all but expected to get snapped at for quite some time now and he would have it coming. But Zombie surprises him here too: he’s patient and laid back; he is not looking at Thor pointedly, hinting him to hurry the hell up. He isn’t looking at him, period; he’s got his nose down in sketchbook, working on yet another version of the  design, the one that will probably make Thor’s meddling slower and less effective.

 

So, the question hits him unexpectedly. At first Thor’s not sure if it’s really been asked or he has just imagined it.

 

‘’I dunno,’’ he says, expecting the backlash of snarky, sardonic comment or a glare or two.

 

Zombie just looks up for a second, studying him, then sighs and nods.

 

‘’Why?’’

 

‘’Why what?’’

 

‘’Why do you want to know?’’ Thor clarifies.

 

Zombie shrugs.

 

‘Why did you?’’ Thor asks back, jumping on the chance to throw that out there without sounding like a creep or judgemental asshole.

 

He expects some generic answer. Or being told off, because, in all honesty, that it’s none of his goddamn business. What he doesn’t expect the other man to freeze like the deer in the headlights, his breathing accelerating to an alarming degree.

 

‘’I…’’ he stammers, clutching the sketchbook to his chest, ‘’I… Just like it.’’

 

Well, that’s a fuckin lie if Thor’s ever heard one. He nods nonetheless.

 

‘’They’re beautiful. Suits you.’’ He tries, in a desperate attempt to throw the conversation back into the friendly lane.

 

Well, if anything, that makes things worse. Zombie blinks up at him, his lips shaking a bit, eyes wide.  

 

‘’Thank you.’’ he says at last.

 

God, it sounds so _fake_.

 

Thor nods.

 

‘’You’re welcome.’’

 

That’s all of their conversation. After that, Thor’s too scared to bring up anything. What does he know, everything and anything could be a sore spot for this guy.

 

In the end, he settles on three different designs, taking them home. The originals too, not the prints! He did offer to have copies made but Zombie shook his head, saying ‘’just take them, I don’t need them anyway.’’

 

They say goodbye at the door, Thor jumps on his bike, starting the engine.

  


* * *

 

 

The day has been shit. Starting from the point where his landlady somehow decides his presence ‘’freaks out the other  neighbors,’’ ordering him to pack his stuff and move out within a week, going on to some kids crying at the sight of him, which results in their mothers throwing him dirty glares.

 

The bus drive isn’t quite walk in the park either. He always hears the whispers. No matter if he’s got his favorite Marley headphones on or not. No matter if he’s hiding the monster under baggy clothes, hoodie and dark sunglasses or not. There’s no hiding.

 

The constant feeling of the eyes. On his back. Watching him. ‘’We know,’’ they seem to say. ‘’We know who you are. We know what you did. You can’t run, Loki. You can’t hide. You won’t get away.’’

 

He’s one fuckin step away from the door when it’s finally too fuckin much and his vision grows dark. Gods, why are his knees so shaky? Loki leans on the back wall of the studio, trying to calm himself down. You’re safe. You’re safe. No one will find you.

 

It works, somewhat; breathing becomes easier after a while and he finally manages to lit that fuckin cigarette and sucks in the smoke filling his lungs with nicotine.

 

Inhale, exhale. _Control yourself, Loki, You can do it. You have to do it._

 

The studio is empty. It’s too early for anyone else to be here; he always tries to come in as early as possible, in futile hopes of avoiding people, leaving house at times when everyone else is just snoozing their alarm clocks yet and coming back when others are watching some crappy late night TV or having fun in clubs and bars, or whatever it is that normal people do. Like he has any idea.

 

He makes himself a cup of coffee, drinking it slowly in the back alley, sitting on the ground, staring down at his palms: black, white, black, white. The irony. He would prefer to just cover up both hands. This just serves a reminder.

 

Loki sighs, heading back inside.

 

Not like he’s had a choice.

 

* * *

 

 

Thor… Well Thor doesn’t make things any easier. Oh, how Loki has hated him on sight; he is  so.. Perfect. Why would he want to ruin that flawless, sun-kissed skin? Just the sight of him makes Loki shiver all over, makes him long to run his fingers up and down those smooth arms, see if they’re just as warm as they look, if they are just as strong…

 

Okay, stop those thoughts right there, he tells himself. He’s a client. Yes, granted a bit weird one who, probably has some mystery crush on you, but that doesn’t yet mean you can risk it.

 

Loki sighs, stealing a tiny glance of Thor before hurriedly looking back down, replaying the image in his mind over and over: Thor, bent down over his sketches, smile on his lips, brows knit together, biting his lips unknowingly,  trying to figure out, trying to choose, probably worrying that Loki’s getting fed up with him too; it’s written all over his face.

 

Well, that couldn't be further from the truth; If anything, Loki’s worried that he’ll choose too soon. Or will deny all the versions, altogether.

 

And then his useless mouth runs away with him and…

 

‘’Why did you decide to get tattooed?’’

 

Thor seems to ponder over the question a bit.

 

‘’I dunno,’’ he says, shrugging, couple of seconds later.

 

Loki looks up for a second, allowing himself to study the man a bit more. He doesn't seem to be hiding anything.

 

‘’Why?’’ Thor asks back.

 

‘’Why _what_?’’

 

‘’Why do you want to know?’’ He clarifies.

 

Loki shrugs. Well, he can’t honestly tell him what he’s thinking, now, can he? For one, ‘’Because I think you’re making a huge fuckin mistake”’ will make him sound weird. And get him in trouble too, if the Boss overhears.

 

‘Why did you?’’ Thor asks back.

 

Loki freezes. In truth, he’s had this coming and should have seen it from a mile away. That’s what polite people do, isn’t it? As in, return the questions? Well, fuck politeness then. Good fuckin job, moron, he thinks, You’ve made your bed. Now lay in it.

 

‘’I…’’ he stammers, after couple of deep breaths (Why the fuck won’t his body just relax and let him breathe? ) clutching the sketchbook to his chest, ‘’I… Just like it.’’

 

Well, that’s a fuckin lie and they both know it.

 

‘’They’re beautiful. Suits you.’’ Thor says.

 

Loki stares. Could that be true? Could he actually mean it? _Don’t kid yourself, Loki. Of course not._ Who would find that monstrosity beautiful? He’s been looking at it for years and years and still can’t quite get used to it.  

 

‘’Thank you.’’ he says at last.

 

God, it sounds so _fake_.

 

Thor nods.

 

‘’You’re welcome.’’

 

* * *

 

 

Thor leaves soon enough. Truth be told, Loki can’t fuckin wait to get rid of him this time; his presence is too much; its like being bit too close to the sun: nice and heart-warming in small doses but too much of it will burn and peel your skin away.

 

Loki looks at the clock. It’s 2 pm. He could go get some coffee already, couldn’t he? Does he have any more clients today? Hell if he remembers. He’ll have to check before leaving.

 

‘’Hey,’’ the girl at the front desk smiles at him. Loki nods. He doesn’t even remember her name, something starting with M? Everything’s just hazy these days.

 

‘’Any more appointments today?’ He asks without any preamble. Small talk is not his forte, never has been. He’s the asshole and the weirdo around here anyways. The black sheep. Well, if the new girl isn’t already aware of the fact, she might as well get started on figuring it out.

 

‘’Just one,’’ she says, looking him up and down. well mostly up - as people usually do; trying to figure out what his face tats are supposed to be. Acting oh so fuckin subtle. Like he doesn’t have a pair of functioning eyes. _If you wanna fuckin ask, just ask,_ Thinks Loki, annoyed beyond measure. _Spare me the hypocrisy._

 

‘’4 pm.’’

 

‘’Thank you, ‘’ he says, getting out of the uniform-robe and hanging it up. ‘’I’ll be here by then… ‘’

 

‘’Alice,’’ she supplies.

 

‘’Alice,’’ Loki nods.

 

* * *

 

 

The 4 PM client is a pair of chattering ladies in their thirties. Or, the blonde one is, the other is there for emotional support or some shit, supposedly.

 

They’re doing the side - it’s the first session. The tattoo, while it is not entirely of Loki’s design, he made lots of changes to initial sketch she brought and it looks halfway decent now: it starts just under the armpit, extending under her left breast, coming down to the navel and curling into the belly button. It’s flowers and branches, which first she wanted in all the outrageous colors, but, thankfully could be convinced to take it down a notch and settle with black and red.

 

They start out slow: side is painful area to work on and if the client can’t fuckin settle and be still, it’s twice as challenging as it should be.

 

‘’Are you alright Miss?’’ Loki asks about twenty minutes in, fed up with all the twitching.

 

She nods, gulping.

 

‘’Are you sure you don’t need a break?’’ he says, trying his damnedest to get the message of _‘’Stop with the fuckin twerking or this ain’t gonna work’’_ through. ‘’A snack? Water? Bathroom break?’’

 

‘’No, it’s fine,’’ she says, trying to convey the resilience she doesn’t have. ‘’Go on honey.’’

 

Loki sighs inwardly. Another time, maybe, he’d fuckin tell this bitch off, but they spent a lot of time working on the design and the payment should be around thousand bucks at least. Of course, around half of that will go to the parlor, but it’s still a lot of money which he can’t afford to waste.

 

‘’Miss,’’ he says again after another fifteen minutes, when her jumpy little movements become far too much. ‘’If you can’t hold still, I won’t be able to get my lines straight.’’

 

She blushes scarlet.

 

‘’Sorry.’’

 

Loki nods.

 

The torture of trying his best with the uncooperative client goes on for two and a half hours.

 

‘’Well, that’s a good place to stop for today,’’ He says, putting the tools away, ‘’Would you like a look before I cover this up?’’

 

She shakes her head. Loki frowns: she’s kinda too pale even for this stark white light.

 

‘’Alright,’’ he says, covering up the tattoo, standing up, stretching and turning to leave to allow her to dress: she’s naked except for her underwear and her breasts covered by a thin white towel. ‘’Call me if you…’’

 

And then he hears the thud; turning sharply, Loki gasps: The girl is lying face down on the floor.

 

Ok, _what the actual fuck._ Loki rushes to her side, throwing the towel around her shoulders, picking her up; her nose is bloody. Fuck.

 

‘’Alice!’’ he shouts, ‘’get me some water!’’

 

Alice runs in, with the girl’s friend in tow.

 

‘’Oh my God!’’ the friend exclaims, ‘’What happened?’'

 

‘’She fainted.’’ Loki says, trying to sound neutral. ‘’Probably overexerted herself. It happens sometimes. Don’t worry.’’

 

She nods, crouching down next to him, pulling hair from her friend’s face.

 

‘’Mmm…’’

 

Loki looks up.

 

‘’What?’’

 

‘’Why is she bleeding?’’ the girl asks, kinda panicky.

 

‘’The nosebleeds are sometimes…’’

 

‘’No, no!’’ She interrupts, pointing at her legs.

 

Loki curses colorfully, paling: The girl’s thighs are covered in blood too.

 

‘’Could this be because of the abortion?’’

 

Loki stares at her, wide eyed.

 

‘’She got an _abortion_?’’

 

A nod.

 

 _‘’TODAY_?’’

 

Well, if the girl’s paleness is anything to go by, neither of these idiots have thought this through.

 

‘’Alice!’ Loki screams, ‘’Call the fuckin ambulance!’’

 

* * *

 

 

Loki manages to sneak away when the ambulance arrives. Courtesy of Gast: no matter how Loki hates having to call _him_ for help, there is no other way. Either that, or get questioned by the police. Gotta chose the lesser of two evils.

 

The girls leave with the medical crew. Loki sits in Gast’s office through all the shit, trying hard to control the tremors in his fingers. He is so not looking forward to confrontation that is sure to come. Or, Gods forbid, if she sues them.

 

The door opens and is boss steps into the room. Gast is a tall man, in his late fifties, gray hair, dorky glasses, friendly smile. There used to be times when Loki was fooled by this man’s appearance, having no idea who he was dealing with. Those days are long since gone.

 

‘’Hey, pet,’’ the man says, fondly.

 

Loki nods.

 

‘’Hey, hey!’’ he scolds, coming over to take Loki’s face into his hands. ‘’Don't worry, sugar-plum. You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, don’t you?’’

 

Well, in truth there’s one hell of a difference between _‘’not letting anything happen’’_ and _‘’not doing anything’’_ to him. Of the later, Loki is not so sure.

 

‘’Of course. I know.’’ he says anyway. ‘’Thank you, En.’’

 

The man smiles, petting his hair.

 

‘’Yes, yes, exactly. So much better, pet,’’ he says, pulling Loki’s chin up, ‘’Hey, why is your hair down? You know that upsets me! It doesn’t suit you and it ruins my masterpiece!’’

 

‘’Sorry,’’ mutters Loki, hurriedly looking for a hair tie he must’ve had somewhere in his pocket and gasps in pain when the man pulls on his hair roughly.

 

‘’Don’t you forget why I tolerate this liking of long hair, Loki.’’ he hisses into young man’s ear. ‘’Don’t make me shave it over. Don’t disappoint me.’’

 

‘’En… ‘’ Loki whimpers, feeling long-nailed fingers dig into his scalp. ‘’You’re hurting me!’’

 

‘’Pain is an excellent teacher, pet.’’

 

‘’ _Please.._.’’

 

The man sighs and lets go of him. Loki puts his hair up in a hurry, casting wary looks at his master sitting down in the leather chair at the other side of the table.

 

‘’They left.’’ The older man notifies Loki after a while, letting him stew in his misery first. ‘’The police and all. It cost me but.. Done. No one has to know.’’

 

‘’Are you grateful, pet?’’ The man asks, voice silky.

 

‘’Yes. I am. Thank you, En.’’ He says, already knowing what’s coming next.

 

Gast raises his eyebrows and motions him closer.

 

‘’Well, then..’’ he purrs. ‘’ _Show_ me?’’

 

Loki swallows a lump in his throat. He knows Gast does nothing for free.

 

Well… A shit day indeed.


	3. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, 2 chapters in two days? You'd be surprised what being unemployed and useless will do to writing career. :D Enjoy!

The feeling of uneasiness nags Thor from the morning. Even though nothing out of the ordinary has yet happened, the man has a feeling that it should.

 

All in all, his day is proceeding as usual: he gets out of bed around noon,  chugging his usual cup of coffee, hitting the gym, spending about two hours on weights. The familiar burn in muscles lifts his spirits a bit.

 

Then he drives his bike to the bar. “Valhalla” is quiet during the day, but only on the outside: to the ones who think of it as just a bar which, for some reason or another, the Vikings, town’s biker gang favors.

 

Lots of people have misconceptions about biker gangs: to some, they're the outlaws, ones to be feared and avoided at all costs. Associated with crime and dark dealings of the underworld. To others, they're more of the law than the police could ever be: the vigilantes,  protectors of the poor and weak.

 

To Thor, they're his family and as all families, far from perfect. His father, Odin, the One Eye, the Allfather, if you will, just like his father Borr before him, is the leader of the gang and the  unofficial king of the outlaws. To Thor, their weird little family (which in all honesty is not so little: there are around fifty grown men and women enlisted in Vikings gang, on different levels of membership) is bit of both sinner and saint. Yes they do have deals: arms and substances, protection services and offensive forces too at times, but not only for money's sake: Odin has enough of that already: both family fortune and his addition to it, earned through the years worth of hard work.

 

Odin is way more selective in his dealings than Borr ever was: that, according to what his mother, Frigga and some of the elders has told Thor.

 

Thor is not stupid: he's well aware that good chunk of money that afforded him everything he ever wanted is blood money. But he also knows that world is an ugly place and lady justice favors who bring the sacrifices to her.

 

The bar is almost empty: just couple of his mates hanging in the front pouch with whom Thor exchanges warm smiles, handshakes and pats on the back. He has their respect and loyalty and always will regardless of Odin’s decision on who the family fortune will go to.

 

In truth, Thor isn't so keen on inheritance: his elder sister, Hela, should be all means be the one to get it: she's good ten years older than him and has done lot of deals in her time, many of which were solved in a manner Thor would not and did not agree on, not like she asked for his opinion on the matter.

 

Thor officially became one of the gang when he turned eighteen and by the time he was twenty one, good part of the gang saw him as worthy of the title of future leader. Although he was quite content with where he was, he'd lie if he said it didn't please him or boost his ego quite a bit.

 

The hall is darkened. Heimdall, his father's right hand man is behind the bar, his yellow eyes fixates on a distant point, thoughtful.

 

“Thor, “ the man greets as soon as the blonde steps through the door. “”you're here early.”

 

“Heimdall.”  Thor nods in acknowledgement. “Anyone in the back?”

 

“your Warriors are here. They haven't left since yesterday night actually.”

 

The Warriors, a small group of Thor's closest friends, are sprawled around in the private lounge, in the back of the building.  They all enlisted around the same time, went through the training together and stayed together ever since. Thor knows for a fact they have his back no matter what, sometimes frankly to an alarming degree of disobeying both Odin and Hela.

 

The room is heavy with the smell of both alcohol and pot, which, to a novice, would be enough to cause dizziness and nausea. Thor scans the room for the least drunk person to talk to.

 

“Thor!” Fandral calls him from the far side where him and Hogun are seated. “Look what the cat dragged in!” pointing at the other man.

 

Thor makes a beeline to them: it's indeed a rare right to see Hogun here: stealth being his specialty, Odin usually has him sent to one concurrent or another to listen and gather intel. Last time he's seen the man was about month and half ago.

 

“Hogun, “ Thor greets. The man silently nods. “You're back already? We didn't expect you for a week at least.”

 

“Indeed. Your father's orders.”

 

“something urgent?” Thor asks, dragging the nearest chair around and pulling out a cigarette from the pack laying on the table.

 

Hogun doesn't say a word. Talking is not his forte and if Odin has told him not to speak, it's as good as impossible to make him. That habit,  in case of enemies snooping around, is useful. That much none can deny.

 

But it's also incredibly frustrating for his friends.

 

“He'll tell us soon enough anyway.” Fandral butts in.  “chill man. Your father that is.”

 

Thor grimaces.

 

“How's your tattoo thing goin?” Fandral inquires.

 

“Well enough. We'll start working on it tomorrow.”

 

“Who's doin the do?” Asks his ever cheerful friend.

 

Thor doesn't answer. He wants to keep it all private  and truthfully, has no idea why. Not like he's secretive or anything. Just… He remembers the tattooed boy's sad eyes and dejected demeanor and once again the urge to protect him swallow him whole. His gut is telling him there's something fishy going on there. And usually, his gut is never wrong.

 

“I don't know his name.”

 

Fandral raises a skeptical eyebrow at him.

 

“How so?”

 

Thor shrugs.

 

“not everyone is as keen and chatty as you, Fan.”

 

“What the famous Odinson charm didn't work for you?” he exclaims feigning hurt and shock. “Man what is the world coming to?”

 

Thor chuckles.

 

“I'm not trying to charm the pants off of everyone i lay my eyes on.” he teases back in good humor. “Unlike you.”

 

Fandral shoves him and climbs to his feet unsteadily.

 

“Yeah yeah moral code of whatever.” he says, swaying a bit. “You do that mighty knight. Ima go hit the sack.”

 

Thor quickly takes his place next to Hogun on the couch and looks at the other man: he has seen and been through a lot with his friend about the guy's clearly worried.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Thor…” Hogun hesitates. “I don't know if I should…”

 

“ Oh fucks sake, Huggs. I know your _“we're in deep shit”_ face. Spill it.”

 

“Alright.” the brunette says after a minute. “There's a deal going on behind our backs, Thor.”

 

“Deal?  Who?”

 

“Surtr’s buying arms from someone else.” the man whispers back. “that's why our orders keep going down. They're transferring and laundering for someone.”

 

“Jotunheim?” Thor guesses.

 

:That's what I thought too. “ replies Hogun. “but surprisingly, not. Not that I know of. Either they're clean or _someone's_ covering for them.”

 

Thor freezes.

 

“Someone? “ he parrots back, dumbstruck. “You mean one of ours?”

 

Hogun doesn't say so, but his grim face is all the proof Thor needs.

 

“Who?” Thor asks, icily.

 

“I don't know.”

 

“Odin knows.” That's not a question.

 

“He does.”

 

“And?”

 

“Ordered us to keep quiet.”

 

“Us?”

 

“Thor..”

 

“No no don't back out on me now. Who else knows?”

 

“Heimdall and Hela.” Hogun replies sourly.

 

“And he didn't tell me? Why? “ Thor frowns and then it finally clicks. His father and sister, their right hand man: the only ones above his rank…

 

“Hogun..” he starts fearing the answer he might hear. “Don’t tell me he suspects me?!”

 

“Keep your voice down Thor.” his friend hisses grabbing his arm when the blonde pulls up. “Everyone is a suspect.”

 

“But why.. Why would he think… That I? “

 

Gods it hurts so much to hear it. He knew Odin and him didn't always agree, but to hear it confirmed… To have the extent of the drift between him and his blood family laid out in front of his eyes like this… To see it so plain so simple and cruel.

 

The truth.

 

Hurts like a bitch.

  


* * *

 

The knowledge ruins Thor's entire week. Rational part of his brain understands the reasoning behind all this: he's the younger child and although Hela is the hair, there's one, no, two glaring issues against her rule. For one, she's… well..  female and while in Odin's household and his business women would never be seen as less than, there's no shortage of men both in the gang and the city who'd rather do business with Thor. A woman as a head of the Vikings is an unprecedented case. Lots of people would not accept that.

 

Thor is, of course,  not one of them: underestimating Hela is the last mistake he'd ever make. His elder sister is just as capable as she is terrifying and cruel. Thor would never stand in her way unless he had a death wish. Not that he wants to. But, frankly he understands her wariness of him. There’s been numerous examples of younger siblings’ thirst for power tearing the families apart and bringing bigger businesses down. What he doesn’t understand is Odin: the thought of his father even considering, _even one bit,_ that Thor’s capable of such betrayal is beyond painful.

 

Then there's the other issue: Hela’s methods which are far too violent for Thor's liking and Thor knows that many stand on the same hill in this regard. If Hela was the one in charge right now, this silent, cautious business would likely turn into a bloodbath and fairly quickly. That's how Thor knows that if and when his father passes the mantle, running for the hills is the smartest option. He isn’t a coward and won't do so but.. others might. And if Hela interprets that as an act of defiance…

 

God help them all.

 

“You're quiet today.”

 

The question catches Thor completely off guard. He looks up at Zombie boy, leaned over his shoulder, applying the first, test layer of paint.

 

“So you wanna talk now?” he shoots back, more harshly than intended.

 

The Guy looks him in the eye for a second.

 

“No.” he shrugs.

 

“I didn't mean it like that.” Thor says after a minute.

 

“Like _what_?”

 

“You know… Like… Ok that was rude and uncalled for you have my sincerest apologies.” Thor says in a tone that makes him sound like guilt ridden ten year old.

 

Zombie smiles. Thor feels his stomach do a flip.

 

“Apology accepted.” The artist says.

 

Silence stretches enough to make Thor regret his asshole behavior: first time this guy asked something about him, showed interest, unprompted and he just shut it down. Stupid.

 

“It's uhh… Family thing.” Thor says apologetic.

 

The guy sighs.

 

“Thor you really don't have to explain.”

 

“But I _want_ to, “ says the blonde earnest.

 

Zombie’s cool fingers brush his shoulder. It's a feather light touch but it's  _intentional_. Meant to comfort.

 

Thor's heart swells with joy.

 

“My sister, she… Her and my father think I've done something horrible.” he explains as vaguely as possible. It's still a secret that needs to be kept after all and he ain't no snitch no matter what _some people_  think.

 

Zombie pulls out an armature bar and starts assembling it.

 

“Have you?” he asks nonchalant.

 

“No!” Thor exclaims outraged, feelings of betrayal fresh. “Why would I do anything that hurts my family?”

 

Zombie levels him with an odd look.

 

“Lots of people do things that hurt their families, Thor.”

 

Thor's rendered speechless for a moment.

 

“I don’t understand those  people then. “ He argues, totally protective. “Would you do something that would hurt your family?”

 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he knows he made a mistake: Zombie flinches and shrinks back. And even though the raven haired boy tries hard to cover up the impact Thor's words have on him, he fails miserably.

 

“Sorry I shouldn't have…”

 

“I have.”

 

The reply is barely above a whisper but Thor still hears it.

 

The artist puts down the half-assembled tattoo machine and stands up.

 

“Sorry, I…” he mutters. “I'll be right back. I need a moment.”

 

* * *

 

 

It takes more than a moment for tremor in Loki's hands to go away. He leans back to the bathroom door, cool metal digging into his shoulder blades.

 

Thor. Thor has somehow become a huge problem. Loki has no idea where this feeling of _safety_ even comes from, but, for the first time, he really, really wants to tell this man every single shitty thing he's done has been done to him through the last couple of years.

 

Loki sighs and pulls out a pack of pills from his pocket, swallows two and washes them down with a water from sink.

 

It will help. It has to.

 

Thor waits just where Loki has left him, concern and anxiety written all over his face.

 

“Hey, man,” he starts as soon as Loki pulls the door out. “I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked. You're not my therapist or anything ok? You don’t have to listen to my problems, I shouldn't have come off like that and…”

 

“Thor.” Loki says, holding his hand up. “It's fine. Really. I'm the one that should apologize. I totally overreacted. That was really unprofessional of me. And it's not even your fault that you got riled up in the first place.”

 

“I have a bit of a temper.” Thor admits.

 

Loki can't help a tiny smile.

 

“It's the pain, “ he explains sitting back down and motioning the blonde to get back into chair as well. “ Makes people irritable and twitchy.”

 

“I can deal with pain.” Thor says, sounding petulant.

 

“Of course.” smirks Loki at him. “If any consolation, you're nowhere near the worst client I've ever had.”

 

“Oh?  So what's my badness level on your scale? “ jokes Thor.

 

“Hmm…” says Loki drawing it out, like he really has a scale to put this wonderful, childish man on. “I give it a four.”

 

“Four.”

 

“Night's still young.” deadpans Loki.

 

Thor laughs.

 

Loki picks the tattoo machine back up, straightens up the lights and gets back to the outline he was doing before the machine failed him for some reason. Good thing he realized in time the ink wasn’t coming off as smooth as it should have been and it was not his hands or eyes that were the problem.

 

The machine buzzes and for some time, it fills the air with comfortable white noise. Some of Loki’s clients say they love the sounds, some say they hate and fear it. Loki can barely hear it anymore.

 

The lines are coming along perfect. He’s putting in the first white layer, which is easy thing to do since Thor’s skin is so beautifully tanned. Loki sighs. Gods, this one; this design on this man’s perfect hand, will probably be the one he’ll have carved on his gravestone.

 

If he even gets one, that is.

 

* * *

 

 

“You know I'm really sorry about earlier.” Tries Thor once again.

 

Their session is done for the day. Zombie is covering up the tattoo in silence.

 

Thor takes a deep breath, crossing his fingers.

 

“Maybe I could make it up to you.” He says.

 

“Leave a good tip, tell your friends about me and I'll consider your debt paid in full.”

 

Well that's not where Thor wanted this to go.

 

“Of course.” he replies nonetheless. “I'll. . I'll do that no problem. Just… that's not what I meant. More like…” Gods, he’s ranting, isn’t he? “Maybe I could buy you a drink?”

 

“I don't drink.”

 

“Coffee then.” Thor offers, relentless.

 

Zombie sighs and looks at him like one would look at disobeying child.

 

“Are you asking me out, Thor?”

 

“So what if I am?” Challenges the blonde.

 

“You don’t even know my name.”

 

“Well, what's your name?”

 

“Bye, Thor. See you on Friday.”

 

Thor looks like he has no intention of moving.

 

“You're hurting my feelings here.” he complains half-jokingly.

 

“Oh my days! Got feelings, do you?”

 

Thor frowns.

 

“Come on, what's the big deal?”

 

Zombie sighs.

 

“It will be awkward and embarrassing for you and painful for me.”

 

Right. Like That explains something. He hasn't denied wanting to go on a date with him though. Nor has he said he's not into guys, or already seeing someone. So, whatever the issue is, it could be fixed.

 

‘’One time,’’ Thor says, ‘’My gang and me, we're on this country fair. There was a parade going on, but my freakin motorcycle would not start, so my pal offers me to ride on the back of his HD Heritage Softail Classic, equipped with passenger backrest. Not that I wanted to do that, but it was better than standing there, looking like a total idiot. So, at some point the bike stalled and would not start. We decided to try to push start it. So I got off the bike and began to push the it while Fandal tried to pop it out of first gear. The first attempt failed. We tried again, failed again. Fandral was about to give up, when I told him to try it in second gear instead. I got in position to push him one last time, took grip of the backrest and ran and pushed as hard as I could.  
  
Then the fuckin bike started, and as soon as it did, my instinct was to grab on to the back rest with a gorilla grip. I was dragged down for about fifty feet. In front of thousands of people. That is the time it took for my brain to tell my hands to release the grip. Once I released the grip my body tumbled and rolled behind the motorcycle.’’

 

Zombie blinks at him owlishly.

 

‘’Sorry but I seem to have missed the point.’’ he says, chuckling.

 

‘’Can’t get more awkward or embarrassing than that.’’ Thor states, brushing his fingers against other man’s. ‘’So I’m willing to try.’’

 

Zombie smiles, takes a small sketchbook with a pen attached to a side, thrusting it into Thor’s waiting hand. Thor scrambles down his number in a hurry.

 

‘’And yours?’’ he asks, hopeful.

 

Raven haired man just smirks, pointing to him the door.

 

‘’I’ll call you, Thor. Bye.’’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are life and make me write faster <3


	4. Risks and rewards

 

Loki would be lying if he said he's not worried of this “datey” business he got himself into. Well he can just not call and that's that, but what would he say when Thor shows up for the next session on Friday? 

 

So he texts: calling isn't his forte. The text is simple: the time, the place and the date. No names. No flirty emojis. Nothing. Keep your cool, act disinterested: That's what he's aiming for.

 

At one point Loki wonders if Thor will realize it's him, half-hopeful and half-dreading that he won't. That all this is one big dumb joke to him.

 

Thor answers couple minutes later. He texts exactly the way he speaks, deduces Loki: shortcuts, smiles, exclamation marks all over the place. 

 

The raven-haired man sighs: it's a mistake that could cost him. Or them. But he's still looking forward to it like a horny teenager; feeling like he's fifteen again, sneaking around with boys behind his parents’ backs, the thrill and the danger of what ifs… The adrenaline pumping through his veins, as if he's sneaking out of the storage window again to go to a club, or have a beer with a friend.

 

The clubs. Friends.  Drinking. Gods, it feels like a lifetime ago. Albeit quite correctly, in a way: after all more than a decade has passed. 

 

The stakes have been raised.

 

The risks are quite different now, as are the consequences.

 

* * *

 

Thor’s treading on air: isn’t that what they call it? Even the stinging feeling of estrangement from his family can’t ruin his mood. He’s probably way too excited about the prospect of actually talking to the guy he’s been nursing a crush on for a while. 

 

He has no idea what kind of establishment the selected place is, but, frankly speaking, he couldn’t care less.

 

Those two days to Thursday drag out for a whole entire month. And when the day finally comes, he’s more nervous than he’d ever admit. 

 

Thor arrives at the address given to him a bit late: he’s never been to this part of town before. It’s on the other side of town, way far from both Tattoo studio and his apartment. Thor wonders if Zombie lives somewhere around here (It’s just healthy curiosity though, ok? Not like he’s a stalker or anything!).

 

It’s a small coffee shop, designed in warm tones of chalcoral, caramel and the shades of brown. Thor likes it a lot: both the smell and the atmosphere. It’s homey. Cozy, with huge armchairs, couple of booths and different sofas in random floral patterns. 

 

His date is already here - waiting for him, sitting in the corner booth - the one farthest away from the windows and closer to the heaters, headphones on. A steaming cup of tea is sitting in front of him.

 

‘’Hey,’’ Thor says, pulling his helmet off, putting it down on the table and biting his lip: should he hug him? Kiss on the cheek? Is it inappropriate? But how inappropriate can a simple hug be? ‘’Sorry I’m a bit late.’’

 

‘’It’s alright,’’ Says Zombie, removing the headset and unplugging it from smartphone. ‘’I just got here anyway.’’

 

Thor takes a seat on the other end of the table. 

 

‘’What are you listening to?’’

 

‘’Why do you want to know?’’

 

‘’I dunno, as good a conversation starter as any, I guess.’’ Thor shrugs.

 

The boy nods.

 

‘’ABBA.’’ he confesses, shyly, his cheeks heating up a bit.

 

Thor’s heart does a weird cartwheeling thing.

 

‘’Didn’t take you for that kinda person,’’ he says.

 

Zombie side-eyes him.

 

‘’What kind of person exactly?’’

 

‘’I dunno, old school kind, I guess.’’ Thor shrugs again, grabbing couple of napkins from the stand and starts tearing them to pieces, in order to have something to do. ‘’ABBA is more like something my mum would listen to. Not that that’s a bad thing or anything!’’ he rushes to add, when Zombie winces uncomfortably. 

 

The silence stretches for about a minute. Thor puts his nose down in the menu, trying and failing to look unaffected. Doesn't work that well, though: he's still dreading that he's fucked up irreparably and the silent treatment is all he's gonna get out of this hard attained outing,

 

‘’My mom used to like them too.’’ Zombie says after a while, eyes averted. 

 

_ Used to. _ Thor doesn’t miss the past tense.

 

‘’I’m sorry,’’ he offers, sincerely. ‘’I’m not gonna claim to know how that feels. Cause I don’t.’’

 

‘’Good.’’ Zombie nods. ‘’And thank you. But you don’t need to. It’s been a while.’’

 

‘’What was she like?’’

 

Thor has no idea why they’re talking about this. But at least they’re  _ talking _ . 

 

‘’She… Was bright. Had such a warm smile. Soft hands. She used to sing to me when I was afraid.’’

 

Thor nods again, to convey the message: _ I’m listening. I’m interested.  _

 

‘’She taught me a lot of things. She was brave, intelligent…’’ Zombie sighs. ‘’I… Sometimes I wish I could ask her for advice. Sometimes, I think that she’d know all the answers. You know, when you’re a kid, your parents seem like they’re invincible. All-knowing. But then you grow out of that.’’ 

 

Thor chuckles.

 

‘’I never really grew out of that, to be honest.’’

 

‘’Oh?’’

 

‘’My mom’s still a badass and sometimes she terrifies me.’’

 

‘’I didn’t know you were so easily scared.’’ Teases Zombie.

 

‘’I’m not.’’ Laughs Thor in response. ‘’But you don’t know her. Even father’s scared of her sometimes. And he’s  _ Odin _ .’’

 

Zombie’s eyes widen.

 

‘’What? You mean… You’re a son of Odin?’’

 

Thor nods.

 

“The  _ Odin _ ?”

 

‘’Didn’t mean to bring it up like this.’’ he admits. ‘’It slipped.’’

 

‘’Oh? ‘’ Taunts Zombie. ‘’When were you going to tell me then? That you’re the son of biggest underground overlord in the state?’’

 

Thor spreads his hands in the universal sign of surrender.

 

‘’Hey, you even refused even tell me your name!’’ He protests. 

 

Zombie narrows his eyes at him, calculating. 

 

‘’Hello, guys, you a chance to select anything you’d like yet?’’ 

 

Both look up at the same time to see brunette girl standing at the table.

 

Well, not like Thor even really looked at the menu, aside from using it as a cover.

 

Zombie recovers from it first.

 

‘’ Standard Caramel Latte, please.’’ he says.

 

‘’Same for me,’’ says Thor, hoping this place has decent coffee. ‘’And a slice of apple pie if you got it?’’ 

 

The girl smiles sweetly at him.

 

‘’Sure thing, honey. Coming right up.’’ She all but purrs and leaves.

 

Zombie looks after her weirdly. 

 

‘’I’m Thor, by the way,’’ The blonde says to break the silence, after their drinks are served. 

 

Zombie sighs in defeat, rolling his eyes.

 

‘’Loki,’’ he says, sipping his coffee. 

 

Thor’s too busy congratulating himself on this major victory. But then it dawns at him. 

 

‘’Oh my God, are you serious?’’ 

 

Loki raises eyebrow at him.

 

Thor bursts out laughing. 

 

‘’Oh my God, this is unbelievable!’’ he cackles. ‘’Thor and Loki. Seriously, what are the fuckin chances?’’

 

Loki seems to catch up on the joke and his lips curl up in a tiny smile too.

 

‘’You know what that makes you?’’ Thor goes on, hysterical. ‘’My uncle!’’

 

‘’What?’’

 

‘’You know, in myths? Odin and Loki are blood brothers. Therefore you're my uncle.’’

 

Loki smirks mischievously. 

 

‘’Are you into that kind of thing?’’ he muses.

 

‘’What?’’ Thor sobers up, baffled. ‘’No! Why would I be?’’

 

‘’So you’re not gonna start calling me daddy anytime soon?’’ 

 

Thor sputters out his coffee.

 

‘’God, no!’’

 

‘’Good, I wouldn’t know how to react if you did.’’

 

Thor points a finger at him. 

 

‘’For one thing, I’m older than you.’’

 

‘’Oh, really, grandpa? How old are you?’’

 

‘’Thirty two. And you? Twenty two? Twenty three?’’

 

Loki scowls at him.

 

‘’Twenty seven, actually.’’

 

‘’So you gotta be calling me daddy, then.’’  teases Thor.

 

There’s a strange look on Loki’s face for a second: something akin to disgust, but it’s gone in a blink of an eye.

 

‘’Don’t hold your breath for that.’’ He says.

 

Thor frowns. Ok, obviously a sore spot, that one. 

 

How’s your tat healing?’’ Says Loki after a minute of silence.

 

Thor shrugs.

 

‘’Fine, I guess?’’

 

‘’Does it itch?’’

 

Nod.

 

‘’Yeah a bit. Not a lot though.’’

 

‘’Don’t scratch it.’’ Warns Loki.

 

The patronizing tone makes Thor smile.

 

‘’Scout’s honor!’’ he promises.

 

Thor’s pleasantly surprised: The conversation is light and easy. They joke around, smile and laugh. At some point the blonde works up the courage to slide his hand out and grab the lean man’s thin, delicate fingers in his. 

 

The coffee is good. Cakes too. They order one more round of drinks after the first hour.

 

Time all but flies. It makes Thor sad: he doesn’t want to say goodbye. If feels wrong somehow. It feels like this was it: the one date, one evening to spend together. Like a page from someone else’s life. Strange melancholy is consuming him.

 

He tries not to show it through.

 

‘’Excuse me for a moment,’’ says Loki after their second round of drinks is gone, standing up, stretching his hands out. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

 

Thor pulls out his phone after his date is gone, for no reason. He wishes he had a picture of Loki. Or, better still, picture of both of them, together. Maybe, with Thor’s hand wrapped around Loki’s waist. Maybe, with Loki’s head resting on his shoulder. Maybe…

 

‘’Everything ok here, honey?’’ 

 

Thor looks up at the waitress. 

 

‘’Yes, thank you.’’

 

‘’I’m Mary.’’ She says, smiling at him, fingers playing around her curls,

 

‘’Thor.’’

 

‘’So, Thor,’’ all but purrs the girl, leaning on the table, right into his personal space, fluttering her fake eyelashes at him. ‘’Are you free later tonight?’’

 

Thor blinks, astonished. 

 

‘’My shift is over at twelve.’’ Says the girl, leaning into him. ‘’We could have some fun afterwards, what do you say?’’

 

‘’Mmm… Mary, listen,’’ Thor says, trying to sound as neutral as possible. ‘’I’m flattered really, you’re a beautiful girl. But not interested. Also, i’m kinda on a date.’’

 

The girl raises her eyebrows in mock horror.

 

‘’What, with that  _ thing _ ?’’

 

_ ‘’That thing  _ can hear you.’’  

 

The girl turns, facing Loki, whose whole stance screams one word: defensive; hands crossed on his chest, fingers in tight fists, lips drawn in a thin line. 

 

‘’Well, I guess.’’ she says, randomly, pushes past Loki and heads towards the counter.

 

Without offering any kind of apology.

 

Loki’s just stuck there, wide eyed, expression of hurt and betrayal on his face.

 

Thor jumps to his feet; he has to do the damage control. And fast.

 

‘’Hey,’’ he says.  ‘’Want to get out of here?’’

 

Loki points a finger at him.

 

‘’You,’’ he scoffs, ‘’wait outside. I’ll deal with this.’’

 

‘’Come on, Loki,’’ Thor really does not envy that poor girl: if he lets him, Loki will rip her to pieces. But, well, truth be told, she was horribly rude and sort of deserves it. But you can’t treat people exactly how they deserve: sometimes, there’re law against it. ‘’Let’s just leave.’’

 

Oh, the glare Loki fixes him with.

 

‘’Either wait outside,’’ he spits and turns around, ‘’Or fuck off.’’ 

 

* * *

 

 

Loki strides towards the counter, eyeing the girl disappear behind the orange door with a sign says “Staff Only” on it. 

 

He pushes it, then swears and pulls (one day, he'll get it right on the first try, you just wait and see!). 

 

It leads to a small storage unit, with a door to a walk-in fridge on one side, a small write table with two chairs, a change room on the other and an emergency exit door right ahead, cracked open, leading to a back of the building.

 

Outside, “Mary” is leaning on the wall, hands crossed on her chest, smirking.

 

Loki levels her with a death glare.

 

“Hey, stranger,” she says. “Fancy seeing you here.”

 

“So a  _ thing _ , am I?” spits Loki, trying not to let the hurt show. 

 

The girl shakes a hand dismissively.

 

“You know i didn't really mean it, don't you?”

 

“Do I?” Deadpans Loki.

 

The girl lets out exasperated sigh.

 

“Oh, come on, Loki. You know i wasn't really trying to hook up with your only date since 2007, don't you? Girl code, remember?”

 

“What the fuck were you doing then, Darcy?”

 

“Why, testing him, of course.“ Darcy shrugs, like that makes sense. “To see if he'd defend your honor and all that jazz.”

 

Loki gapes at her.

 

“And he did though!” Darcy says, ruffling the boy's hair in excitement. ”Even said a hard no to all of this!” She says, gesturing around her chest area. “Congratulations baby! you've found yourself a keeper!”

 

Loki blinks furiously, trying to keep away the tears that threaten to spill. What was the last time someone looked out for him? Or stood up in his defence? 

 

He honestly can't remember.

 

“That was still uncalled for.” he pouts.

 

“Hurr burrr, “ sing-songs Darcy. “Cry me a river. Now shoo, go  _ get some _ , that beefcake looks positively dreamy, don't screw it up! And properly introduce us later, i don’t want a hottie like that to think me a bitch, ok?” she tuts, straightening out his jacket and dreadlocks, giving him and hug and disappearing through a staff door back into the cafe. 

 

While Loki stands out there, for several minutes, dumbstruck by the sudden turn of events, Darcy pokes her head back out, all bit yelling at him to “ _ go and get his ass laid,’’ _ and  _ ‘’tell the dirty details later.’’ _

 

Loki blushes scarlet. While making his way back, he prays to all the Gods he doesn’t believe in (And some superheroes too, just in case), that Thor parked his bike up front and not in the back  parking, where he would  _ definitely _ hear Darcy’s last comments.

 

* * *

 

 

Loki is gone for around fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of Thor nervously pacing back and forth, questioning his judgement for allowing that ‘’private’’ conversation to take place, and contemplating calling the police to save that poor girl from a certain gruesome death.

 

When Loki comes back around though, there’s, thankfully, no blood on his hands (well, not that Thor can see) and, while looking like he’s been crying, he seems to be less murderous and more… shy, in a cute sort of way.

 

Thor raises his eyebrows at him.

 

‘’So, where did you hide the body so fast?’’ He asks, only half-jokingly. 

 

Loki smirks. 

 

‘’If I told you, I’d have to kill you.’’ He says in response.

 

“So how did it go?”

 

Loki gives a long - suffering sigh in response.

 

“That… Idiot is a friend of mine. She was just messing around.”

 

Thor blinks, but decides to let it go. Honestly what company Loki keeps is none of his business  (Yet!). But it didn't sound like a funny thing from where he was standing.

 

‘’So, want me to give you a ride?’’ He suggests instead. 

 

Loki nods and Thor hands him a spare helmet, the one he brought, hoping for this exact outcome. The meaning behind the gesture definitely doesn’t slip Loki’s notice and it fills his heart with weird warmth. 

 

The ride is silent, with Loki’s hand wrapped around Thor’s midsection and his head resting on Thor’s back. His eyes closed, enjoying the rush, the fresh air and casual intimacy that, for once in  _ years _ , isn’t the one that he’s  _ forced _ to endure.

 

They stop by a dirty, torn down apartment block. Thor’s heart aches thinking that Loki actually lives here. He worries about the dangers. The discomfort of long drive to the work Loki has to deal with on a daily basis (if he even owns a car, that is).

 

He pulls over when Loki tells him to and kills the engine. Loki hops down from behind him, removes the helmet, shaking his braids out of his eyes like a wet cat and hands it back, without a word.

 

_ That’s it, _ thinks Thor. It’s over. He doesn’t know how to ask for a second date. Or if he should at all. Usually, his flirting skills are nowhere this bad and he’s pretty confident in his chances of getting a second date, but these weird, calculating glaces Loki shoots his way? Those, he can not hope to decipher.

 

‘’Sooo...’’ Thor starts, hopefully, when Loki doesn’t turn his back and walk away as soon as the helmet is out of his hands. ‘’You wanna do this again sometime?’’

 

Loki purses his lips, eyeing him like the question confuses him. Thor sighs inwardly, his heart giving a weird tug. ‘ _ ’Was it that bad?’’ _ he wants to ask, but doesn’t. 

 

Loki finally raises his head, looking him in the eye. Thor winces and  braces himself for the worst.

 

‘’Wanna come up for some tea?’’ He says out of the blue.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^Sigh.. I knooow it's been ages. I'll try to update more regularly. Encouragement in the form of comments is most welcome :D


	5. Actions and expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I spit into Endgame's face and give our boys fluffy and sexy domestic chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut ahead, but i believe you already knew that...

They walk up the stairs in a complete silence. Loki pushes the old, ratty door to the sixth floor and Thor follows him: down the corridor, to far left, gray door with a number ''Six hundred and thirty six'' on it.

 

Loki turns the key and pushes the door.

 

“After you.” he says with a shaky smile.

 

Thor browses his pockets for a second, fishing out a dollar coin, places it on the doorstep and steps over.

 

“Are you a vampire or something?” Jabs Loki.

 

Thor gives him a sunny smile that makes the raven-haired man’s heart flutter.

 

“It's an old Viking custom.” He explains. “A blessings of sorts. Mum always had us do that, when we visited someone's house for the first time. It's for prosperity and good luck.”

 

Loki stares at a coin for a second, unsure if he should point out that he's getting evicted from here in a couple of days or not. While is landlady agreed to give him another week to move out, he knows that's all the courtesy he's going to get from her.

 

“Thank you.” He says instead, closing the door. “So, should I leave it there? I'm not so familiar with Viking culture, I'm afraid.”

 

“Leave it there for a night.” Thor clarifies. “Then put it somewhere important. A place that needs luck.”

 

“Under the bed.” Jokes Loki, closing the door and pushing the light switch up. “So,” he says and walks towards the kitchen cabinets. “I may not know lots of Vikings, but I do know alcohol was held in high regard. Would you like a drink?”

 

“You don’t drink.” Thor states.

 

“I don't.” Agrees Loki. “Doesn't mean I can't keep alcohol in my house, does it?” He motions Thor towards the grayish-yellow sofa.

 

Thor sits, looking around, taking in the surroundings.

 

The room is simple. White walls. No paintings. No designs or sketches. No TV. A sofa, with a fluffy rug in front of it, small wooden coffee table on the side, worn down leather armchair by the window, next to a heater, with a stool in front of it, covered in paper stacks and pencils. No curtains Brown kitchen cabinets on the other side, with a bar stool in front of it. A toaster, a coffee maker, a microwave. Only the basics. Two doors to either side of the cabinets.

 

Then his eyes land on something he wouldn't have expected to see: a glass shelf stacked with alcohol. Thor can’t really see the names on them, but they sure look _expensive_.

 

“What do you want?” Loki asks.

 

“Watcha got?”

 

“All kinds of shit. “ Shrugs Loki. “Whiskey, wine, vodka, Martini, Absinthe, don't even know what this shit is called.” He pulls out a golden bottle.

 

Thor nearly chokes.

 

“Do you have any idea how much _that shit_ costs, Loki?” He asks, baffled.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Why do you even have it then?”

 

“It's a gift.”

 

Right. Like that makes sense. Gifting couple thousand dollars worth bottle of whiskey to someone who doesn’t drink.

 

“Your friends must be rich.” Thor deduces.

 

An unpleasant expression passes on Loki's face.

 

“Hey, you want it or not?” He snaps.

 

Thor decides it's wiser to let it go. At least  for now.

 

“Bring it on.” He jokes.

 

Loki brings two mugs full of shimmering deep red liquid, putting them on the coffee table. Then he kicks off his boots and sits curled up next to Thor, who can't hold back his laughter at this point.

 

“Unless you invited me in to have me drunk into next week, kill me and hide the body, that amount is far too much, sweetheart.” he cackles. “Half of that would be more than enough for me to completely forget this week has ever happened.”

 

Loki smiles back and rests his head on blonde's shoulder and sighs sadly.

 

‘’Would that be so bad?’’  

 

‘’Life’s being a tough shit?’’ Guesses Thor.

 

‘’Isn’t it always?’’

 

Thor takes both mugs, passing one to Loki.

 

‘’Cheers.’’ He says, taking a sip.

 

‘’To what?’’

 

‘’Getting through the shitty times and doing our best.’’

 

Loki looks at him strangely. ‘’Do you think it’s up to you how your life turns out?’’ He muses.

 

Thor shrugs. ‘’Yea, I guess. Well, there are things out of our control, but they’re far and few in between, aren’t they?’’

 

 _‘’Are they now?’’_ Chuckles Loki, somewhat bitterly, taking a huge gulp from his cup.

 

Thor's desire for expensive alcohol vanishes there and then, overtaken by something else entirely. Well _, fuck him,_ why is he always into these weird mystery tortured artist types.

 

He wraps a hand around Loki's shoulder, drawing him in.

 

“This ok?” He whispers when the leaner man tenses up a bit.

 

Loki nods, relaxing. He's asleep within minutes.

 

Thor stares at him awed by the amount of trust put in him and his heart swells with pride. Loki's already comfortable enough to put his guard down around Thor. He sits there, willing his boner to go away and the humor of it all dawns on him. He pictures Fandral’s reaction if he told him that he finally asked out the guy he's been crushing on, they had coffee, went to his place, cuddled on the couch and as soon as things would be expected to get heated up, the subject of his desires fell asleep in his lap.

 

Thor wishes there was a TV or something so he could distract himself with something. Then he remembers his smartphone. As he reaches into his back pocket, careful not to jolt Loki too much, the phone begins to ring.

 

Thor presses “answer” right away, not wanting his ringtone to go into hard guitar riffs that are sure to follow soft drum tones in 10 to 15 seconds.

 

“Thor,” Says his mother's voice from the other end.

 

“Mother.”

 

“How are you? Where have you been? I expected you for home for Sunday dinner.”

 

Thor curses silently. Yes he skipped the dinner. The hurt of being a suspect was still fresh by then (honestly it still is) and that was pettiest thing he could think of in the heat of the moment.

 

“We haven’t seen or heard from you in a week! Thor, what happened?”

 

“Mum...” Sighs Thor a bit irritated at the fact that she's trying to play coy when they're both aware of the problem. He decides now isn't the time for the discussion though. “Can’t talk now. Bit busy.”

 

There's a silence for couple seconds and Thor even thinks that she'll hang up.

 

No such luck.

 

“Why are you whispering Thor?”

 

Oh, he’s so busted.

 

‘’Cause I can’t talk loud…’’ He counters. ‘’I’m… In a library.’’

 

Where the hell did _that_ even come from?

 

There’s a silence. The her mother _snickers_.

 

‘’Oh, sweetheart…’’ She cackles. ‘’I hope you’re having fun. Bring that book home for dinner sometime, will you?’’

 

Thor blinks. Then groans, when it finally dawns on him.

 

‘’Muuuuum…’’ Then he gives up the pretense. ‘’How did you even know?’’

 

‘’Darling, I haven’t seen you with a book that wasn’t a bicycle repair manual in _years_. And even _those_ you don’t much like.’’

 

‘’That’s not fair.’’ Thor complains, stupid smile on his face. Loki stirs a bit in his lap and the blonde goes on stroking his hair. ‘’I do read!’’

 

‘’Well, obviously our messages aren’t in your favorite genre.’’ Some other voice cuts in from the other end.

 

Thor freezes.

 

‘’Hela?”’ He whispers. ‘’Wait… You had me on a fuckin speakerphone this entire time?’’

 

‘’Language, young man!’’ Frigga says.

 

‘’God damn it, mum, you could have warned me!’’

 

‘’You hiding something from me, little brother?’’ Says Hela, her voice casual, but somehow cold at the same time.

 

‘’I’m not hiding anything Hela.’’ Snarls Thor. ‘’Wish I could say the same about you!’’

 

‘’ _Not hiding anything_ and _not having anything_ to hide are two completely different things, Thor.’’ His sister says. (Well, that was definitely vague) ‘’I really hope you do learn the difference sometime.’’

 

‘’Oh, please, do get off your bullshit,’’ Thor hisses. ‘’How naive do you think I am!’’

 

‘’Thor, Hela, please,’’ Frigga’s voice cuts in, from a bit far off. ‘’Now is not the time. Discuss whatever you have to like adults, in person.’’

 

‘’Sorry, mother.’’

 

‘’You’re right, Frigga,’’ says Hela, all too sweetly.  ‘’How’s your puppy doing, Thor?’’ She asks.

 

‘’I don’t have a puppy.’’

 

‘’Oh, but you do…’’ She purrs. ‘’Black fur, green eyes? I really hope you’d bring him to me sometime.’’

 

Thor’s blood runs cold. Gods, how does she know about this? Any of this? Did she have them followed? Is someone out there watching him right now?

 

He looks down at Loki, who stirs again, cracking one eye open.

 

‘’Gotta go.’’ He drops hastily into the mic and presses red.

 

Loki stretches and looks around.

 

‘’Hey...’’ Says Thor.

 

Loki looks up at him and frowns.

 

‘’Hi.’’ he says back, looking out-of-sorts a bit and pulls up. ‘’Need to use bathroom, sorry,’’ he says, a bit too fast to be true. ‘’Be right back, okay?’’

 

Thor nods and stares after him, baffled. What did he even do?

 

The bathroom takes good fifteen minutes at least. At that point Thor has his doubts about Loki wanting him here at all. maybe the guy regrets inviting him? Maybe he should just toss all his sweet, sweet expectations, call it a day and leave with his tail between his legs?

 

If Loki didn’t mean what he thought he meant… Well, that fuckin sucks, but Thor isn’t the type to force anyone if they’re not willing.

 

He’s about to get up and get his jacket when the bathroom door finally opens and… There he is, his gracious host in all his disheveled glory.

 

‘’How long was I out for?’’ He asks, yawning.

 

Thor frowns. He looks strange, somehow. There’s something… _different_ about him.

 

‘’An hour, more or less.’’

 

‘’Ugh, Gosh, sorry.’’

 

‘’Don’t be. It was fun.’’

 

‘’What playing a pillow for me? That’s a weird definition of fun you got there.’’

 

‘’It’s all in the perspective.’’ Counters Thor.

 

‘’Well, I rather doubt that’s what you came up here to do,’’ purrs Loki, strolling up to him and right into Thor’s personal space. ‘’Is it?’’

 

Thor takes that as a sign, leaning down, pulling an arm around Loki's thin shoulders and pulling him in for a kiss. Loki sighs, melting into the touch, parting his lips a bit, letting Thor lick into his mouth.

 

Thor feels a hand come up around his back too, and, suddenly, Loki clings to him like he’s a lifeline, deepening the kiss and putting his nails into Thor’s back. His cock, that was barely even resting this whole time, peeks its head in interest again. Thor groans; this better go somewhere, or so help him God, he won’t…

 

Loki, as if reading his mind, pulls him down with more force that Thor expected, and they both end up falling from the couch on to the carpet, Loki flipping them in the process somehow and straddling the larger man’s thighs.

 

‘’Loki…’’ Moans Thor, when the leaner man rocks his hips teasingly and smirks down on him.

 

‘’Thor…’’ Purrs Loki, rolling his hips.

 

‘’Oh Gods…’’ Whimpers Thor. The pressure in his jeans is unbearable. He needs both more space and more friction, now. ‘’Please…’’

 

Loki smirks and kisses him some more, before unzipping Thor’s jeans and pulling them down together with his boxers. Thor raises his ass a bit, so there’s more space.

 

Loki gives his dick a stroke or two, and then leans down to take a lick.

 

The way Thor shudders is just delicious to watch.

 

He goes on exploring the huge member in front of his face and the soft areas around it: A lick there, a bit here… But his eyes just stay glued to the glorious thing standing right up in the midst of it all. Gods, Thor’s dick is just gorgeous; flushed dark, thick and long, with couple of red veins starting from right under the head all the way to his balls. Loki’s belly tightens just by imagining getting that thing inside him…

 

Thor, obviously being done with all the playing, suddenly wraps his arms around him and switches their positions, pinning Loki’s hands above his head, putting his entire weight on him.

 

Loki blinks up to him. His eyes are almost entirely green, without any black, except for a single dot right in the center. ‘’ _Please_..’’ He says, softly.

 

Thor takes that as a green light (ha!) and pulls the leather pants down (Gods, why are those so fuckin tight?).

 

‘’Turn the fuck around!’’ He growls, when the fuckin thing gets stuck around his knees.

 

‘’Oh, bossy, are we?’’ Loki taunts, weird light shining in his eyes.

 

But Thor is really done with the tricks and games: he wraps an arm around Loki’s waist, flipping him like a toy and finally pulling the pants off him, feasting his eyes on the sight this new angle provides: of the two perfect white globes, covered in dark lines. God, but he didn’t think he’d find tats down here too.

 

‘’Please.. ‘’ Whimpers Loki pitifully, when Thor rubs his dick between those globes. ‘’Gods… Please…’’

 

‘’Ssshhhh… Shh, baby, it’s ok,’’ Says Thor, tucking a braid behind Loki’s ear and kissing his neck. ‘’Relax. I’ll make you feel good.’’

 

Loki squirms beneath him, trying to rub his dry cock on the carpet to get some friction and lets out a strangled whine when he realizes how much the texture hurts.

 

‘’Don’t hurt yourself, baby.’’ Thor whispers. ‘’Patience, ok?’’

 

‘’God, Thor please..’’ Whines Loki, reaching blindly for the drawer next to the couch. ‘’The lube. Second drawer. Come, on!’’

 

Thor grunts in approval and reaches over to get the bloody thing to really get the show started. Soon, the small pink bottle is in his hand. He pours a generous amount onto Loki’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart and starts rubbing it onto the ring.

 

‘’Oh fucks sake!’’ grunts Loki, desperate, ‘’Just fuck me!’’

 

‘’Don’t wanna hurt you.’’ Argues Thor, sliding a finger inside. For his surprise, Loki takes is in easily. He adds another and pulls them apart.

 

‘’ _Fuuuck_ …. Oh, fuck…’’ Loki cries out, bearing down onto him. ‘’More..’’

 

Thor adds third finger, twisting them around to make more space, while Loki bucks wildly beneath him.

 

‘’You good, babe?’’ Thor asks, reaching around looking for t _he spot_.

 

‘’Need… More..’’ Pants Loki, furiously thrusting back into the fingers. ‘’Please, give me that thick cock, Thor, please!’’

 

Thor grunts and pulls his fingers out: after all he’s only a man and can only take so much. He rolls a condom onto his dick, spreads some lube over it (just in case), aligns himself and pushes in.

 

‘’ _Aaaahhhh_ …’’

 

‘’Oh God…’’ Pants Thor, pushing in. ‘’God, you’re so tight.’’

 

Loki just mewls, entire body taunt as a string: he’s obviously trying to bear down and take it all, but can’t manage. Out of breath, he hides his face into his hands, sobbing.

 

‘’You ok, babe?’’ Thor asks, reaching around and stroking his dick to help him relax a bit.

 

‘’Yes, yes’’ hisses Loki, ‘’You’re… Bigger than I’m... used to.’’

 

Those words kinda rub Thor off the wrong way. He really doesn’t want to imagine… Whatever or _whoever_ the _‘’usual deal’’_ is...

 

He steadies Loki’s hips, pulls out a bit and dives in.

 

Loki’s sweat streaked back is pressed to his chest as he bottoms out and they both take a moment to breathe.

 

‘’I’m good.’’ Says Loki after couple of seconds.

 

Thor starts thrusting in. Slowly at first, but picks up speed fast. Loki is shaking beneath him, babbling, moaning. Thor finds his hand and tangles their fingers together while they fuck.

 

After a while, his belly starts to tighten and he feels his release building up inside.

 

‘’Loki, babe, I’m gonna come.. ‘’ he growls, finding the other man’s cock again to jerk him off in time with thrusts.

 

‘’Yes, yes, like that…’’ Hisses Loki, obviously close to climax as well. ‘ _’Fuck, right there, fuuuuuck…_ ’’ He screams, as his body convulses and the come stains the carpet. Thor fucks him through it, until he too, comes with a blinding release, holding Loki to his chest still.

 

They stay like that for another minute, before Thor pulls out, tosses the condom aside and falls down to the carpet with a groan. Loki turns around, smiling like a cat at him, pulling one leg over his waist, a hand over his chest and snuggling his head into Thor’s shoulder.

 

‘’Hope that wasn’t too awful or embarrassing. ‘’ The blonde jokes after couple of minutes of silence. ‘’And you’re not regretting it yet.’’

 

Loki sighs.

 

‘’Well… We’ll have to see.’’ He replies, his eyes already closed.


	6. Revelations and consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which communication is really not Thor and Loki's forte...  
> Neither is it anyone else's...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, in which i dont have a life and this thing kinda writes itself these days

“So…” Starts Thor. “I was wondering..”

 

Loki feels a chill run through him. Damn that beginning sounds like trouble. There are so many questions he'd rather not answer, he'd need all his fingers and toes to count them. Might have a need to borrow couple more from Thor too.

 

“Yes?”

 

“What's the most painful place to get a tat on?”

 

Gods that's it? That's all? He almost laughs in relief.

 

“Well people have different tolerance for pain. In my experience, on the dick is worst of all.” 

 

“Eww..” Thor shudders even thinking of that metal machine anywhere near… “I didn't know that was a thing.” 

 

“Well it's not common and I'd never do it. Also there's a risk..” 

 

“Hold on hold on! “ The wheels in his head starting to turn faster.  _ I'd never do it _ and  _ personal experience _ hint at..”Fucks sakes, Loki, don't tell me you got your dick tattooed as well!”

 

The smile Loki gives him is devious.

 

“Why don't you find out…” He purrs

 

Thor untangles their legs and slides down to the other man’s waist level.

 

“Oh my God!” he gasps. “ I thought you were messing with me!”

 

Loki leans on his elbows and smirks at him

 

“Jesus you're fuckin crazy.” Thor laughs almost burying his head in the other man's pubes. “Why the fuck would you do that?” 

 

Loki shrugs.

 

“Why do I do anything?” 

 

“You know I've been asking myself that exact question.” 

 

“Got any answers yet?” 

 

Thor shakes his head. “No.”

 

“Well…” Loki draws out the word suggestively.  “If you come to any conclusions do let me know. And… Make yourself useful while you're down there. “

 

Thor shoves him playfully and wraps his lips around the head.

 

* * *

 

 

It's later in the night, after Loki's been sucked off properly, that Thor starts to consider his next move. His host seems to be lost in thought, a cigarette in his fingers, eyes far away. 

 

“Should I go now?.” Asks Thor.

 

His host clearly doesn’t hear.

 

“Loki.” Thor addresses him a bit louder.

 

That does snap him out of it.

 

“What?” 

 

“I said, I'll head out.” 

 

Loki eyes at him warily. 

 

“Ok.” He says after a minute.

 

Thor grimaces and hopes the disappointment isn’t written too clearly on his face. In all honesty he at least expected to be offered to stay. 

 

He gathers his clothes eyes averted. Loki just sits there as if totally unaware of sudden awkwardness.

 

“Don’t be late.” He says when Thor's already dressed and at the door. Not even bothering to see see me out, fuckin asshole. Thinks the blonde bitterly. He totally misses the remark.

 

“What?”

 

“I said don't be late.” Loki repeats monotonous. “Tomorrow. For your appointment.” 

 

Thor slams the door and runs down the stairs, not giving himself the chance to say something he'll regret.

 

* * *

 

 

Loki sleeps like shit. Barely manages to roll out of bed and get to shower, mentally going over the day’s appointment hours: shoulder on eleven thirty. Neck, three PM and then… Thor. Four thirty. 

 

He gets to the studio in a daze. Even the two cups of coffee doesn’t do much for him. Tattoos the first client: annoying middle aged man who didn't think he ought to shave. Or shower. Loki wrinkles his nose, trying his best not to breathe in that direction, but what the hell can you do when you’re basically tattooing around the armpit. 

 

The lunch is horrible. He barely tastes what he eats, Thor’s disappointed, hurt puppy face is all he can see. He wanted to stay, that oaf. Why would he expect? Or want to? Loki sighs. God, he’s fucked. So fucked. If Thor decides to bring that up on appointment today… Or what if he doesn’t and acts like nothing has happened between them? What then? Which one is the lesser of those two evils? Loki honestly doesn’t know.

 

Three PM client is, thankfully, mostly silent punk girl. She does wink and smirk at him a lot, obviously thinking they are kindred spirits or some shit, based only the apparent shit ton of tats they both got going. Well, if that ain’t shallow as hell. But ‘’Good afternoon’’ and ‘’Goodbye’’ are all she gets from him (though not from the lack of effort on her part.).

 

Then it’s four o’clock and Loki, as a coward he is, runs to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and staring at himself in the mirror. 

 

What if he doesn’t show up? That single thought turns his world upside down. Holy shit, when did he get this attached? How did that happen over one single fuckin date and overall two weeks of acquaintance? Loki flashes some cold water onto his face and fishes the small bottle out of his pocket.

 

There are five left. Five pills. He pulls two out and dawns them, washing them with tap water and sinks down onto the toilet seat. 

 

_ ‘’You can’t hide here forever, Loki.’’ He tells himself. ‘’You need to go out there and face him.’’ _

 

Yes, he has to. He fucked this up. Lead Thor along. Gave him hope. He needs to do the damage control. Make it obvious for Thor what the are. Or rather what they aren’t and can’t be. Before all of this gets out of hand. If it hasn’t already. 

 

_ ‘’But what if I don’t want to,’’ a part of his brain begs him. ‘’He likes you. Hell, he might even be the type to put up with you, long term. Why can’t you let him? Why can’t you try?’’ _

 

Try. As if that’s so fuckin easy…

 

* * *

 

 

The four thirty comes and goes with Loki pacing like a caged animal in his room. Gods, where is he? Where? Will he really just ditch it? Loki puts hands over his eyes and tries to control his breathing. Calm yourself, Laufeyson. Maybe it’s for the better if he doesn’t show up. Maybe that means he got the fuckin hint. It would be easier for the both of you, if you didn’t have to talk about it to end it. 

 

By five Loki has to admit that his worst suspicions are correct.

 

Thor didn’t show up.

 

He took the hint.

 

The raven-haired man blinks back tears as he approaches the counter to ask Alice if he has any more appointments today. 

 

‘’No, that was it,’’ Say the girl checking the screen. ‘’Thor didn’t show up though, that’s weird. He’s never even late. Usually he gets here early.’’

 

_ Yeah, go in, why don’t you rub my fuckin nose in it some more, _ Thinks Loki furiously, even though he damn well knows, that the girl doesn’t know shit about anything.

 

‘’I’ll head out then,’’ He says.

 

Alice shrugs.

 

‘’Ask the boss, not me.’’

 

Loki scowls. 

 

‘’Is he in?’’

 

‘’Yeah, I think.’’ She answers nonchalant, scrolling through Instagram. 

 

* * *

 

 

Of course Gast is in, right  when Loki doesn’t want to see him. But he can’t just take off without tell him, that would cause anger and Gast’s anger… Isn’t something he’d wish on his worst enemies. 

 

Loki knocks on the door and pushes it in warily

 

‘’En?’’ He asks.

 

The Grandmaster looks up.

 

‘’Oh, come in, honey.’’ He says, all smiles. ‘’Come on, what you standing for?’’

 

Loki takes a tentative step forward.

 

‘’I wanted to ask if I could leave early.’’ He says, looking down. ‘’I don’t have any more appointments for today, four thirty didn’t show up and I’m kinda… Feeling down a bit.’’

 

As soon as the last part is out of his mouth, he regrets it. 

 

‘’Oh, my!’’ Grandmaster exclaims, standing up and rushing to him. ‘’Lo, what’s wrong? Are you sick?’’

 

‘’No, I’m fine, really,’’ Loki says, trying to put on his happiest face. ‘’Just tired is all.’’

 

The Grandmaster grabs his chin and lips his face up, looking with his piercing eyes. 

 

‘’Um… Are you short on.. You know… The helpings?’’ He asks.

 

Loki shakes his head.

 

‘’No, i’m good, thank you, En, I don’t need it.’’

 

‘’Are you taking care of yourself, Lo? I heard you’re not.. doing… what’s the word…’’

 

‘’No, no, I’m fine.’’ 

 

The grip on his chin tightens to a point of painful. 

 

‘’Uh-huh, don’t be rude, sweetheart. don’t Interrupt me.’’

 

‘’Sorry.’’ Rasps Loki.

 

En lets him go, looking him up and down, eyes calculative. 

 

‘’I’ll have a new shipment in tomorrow.’’ He says, casual, as if he’s talking about fuckin pastries. ‘’You get your weekly as always, pet, don’t worry. Now run along, get some rest and look pretty for me  tomorrow. You hear me?’’

 

Loki all but dashes out from the room, heart in his throat. He makes it a bus stop away from the shop and falls down heavily on a chair near the sidewalk.

 

The tears he’s been holding off so long finally start falling freely. 

 

* * *

 

 

Thor is woken by a knock on the door. He puts a pillow over his face, hoping that whoever the fuck it is, they’ll go away in he ignores them long enough.

 

Then his phone starts to ring too.

 

‘’Hello?’’ Thor says into it with a sleepy, raspy voice, when the damn thing start to ring for the third damn time.

 

‘’Thor. Open the door. We know you’re home.’’

 

Thor sits up. He’s kinda annoyed and kinda hungover too (yeah he came home and drunk his heartbreak away, ok? Give him a break!) 

 

‘’Who the hell is this?’’ He Growls. His head is fuckin pounding.

 

‘’It’s Skurge.’’

 

Thor frowns and climbs out of bed. 

 

‘’Who the fuck sent you?’’ He snaps at the bald man at his door. There are three more behind him that he doesn’t recognize. ‘’What do you want?’’

 

Skurge gives him the disgusted look.

 

‘’Get dressed. Odin wants to see you.’’

 

‘’You mean Hela wants to see me.’’ Thor bites back.

 

Skurge doesn’t even flinch. Well, the man certainly knows how to stand his ground, Thor has to give him that.

 

‘’Either way.’’ He says.’’I am ordered to escort you.’’

 

‘’Where am I being fuckin escorted to?’’

 

‘’You’ll know when we get there.’’ The man says. ‘’Now get dressed, I don’t have all day.’’

 

* * *

 

‘’I didn’t think my sister was stupid enough to attempt to kidnap me.’’ Says Thor when he’s showed into a car rather unceremoniously, with two guards sitting on his left and right.

 

‘’Do I look like a kidnapper to you, Odinson?’’ Scoffs Skurge from the front seat. ‘’Did anyone restrain you? Hit you? You should have been around enough kidnappings to know this is not how they look.’’

 

‘’Yeah just try that shit with me, pal, I dare you.’’ Growls Thor.

 

Skurge just rolls his eyes and turns back to the driver. ‘’Turn left here.’’ 

 

Thor looks out of the window. Wherever they are going, it’s neither to Valhalla, nor to Odin’s estate.

 

They drive to outskirts of town, pass through the desert and into Jotun territories.

 

‘’Handing me over to Laufey, is that it?’’ Thor makes a wild guess.

 

Skurge looks at him like he’s grown a second head and laughs. The three dumb bastards join in.

 

‘’Oh, Odinson, I thought you were a bit naive, but that’s dumb even for you.’’ He says. ‘’These are no longer Jotun lands. They’re ours now.’’

 

Thor frowns.

 

‘’The fuck we need them for? There’s no trading here.’’

 

‘’Not officially, no.’’

 

‘’So we exchange and store here? Is that it?’’ 

 

He gets no answer. They drive into a narrow street and park in front of a warehouse. 

 

* * *

 

 

‘’Brother.’’ Greets Hela. She’s sitting in the only leather armchair standing in the middle of dirty-filthy room with cracked and broken windows. What a show off, thinks Thor.

 

‘’Sister.’’ He spits. ‘’Is this your idea of the adult talking then?’’

 

‘’Well, well…’’ Hela cocks her head sideways. ‘’I’d not play with fire if i were you. After all, father already has his doubts about your dealings. Wouldn’t help at all if he learned about your fraternizing with an enemy, now, would it? His poor poor heart wouldn’t take it.’’ She smirks like a shark. 

 

‘’What the hell are you even talking about, have you lost your mind?’’ Scoffs Thor, crossing hands over his chest.

 

The gaze Hela measures him with is calculating. A strange emotion that could be considered confusing crosses her features. 

 

Then she laughs.

 

‘’Oh, my,’’ she says, shaking her head. ‘’Do you really not know? Are you really this stupid, little brother, or do you take  _ me  _ for a fool?”

 

‘’I don’t have time for your fuckin games, Hela,’’ Thor says, turning on his heels to leave. ‘’I have somewhere to be.’’

 

The three bulky idiots in suits just plant themselves in his way at a moments notice. 

 

Thor looks at them like they’re steaming piles of shit he's stepped in.

 

‘’Thor,’’ Hela says from behind his back. ‘’I’m not your enemy. But I could be. Don’t antagonize me.’’

 

‘’Well, I fuckin wouldn’t but you make it too easy.’’ 

 

‘’Thor,’’ Hela says, standing up, closing in on him. Thor turns - after all, if his brains are about to be blown out, he’d at least like to know who did it. But his sister appears to not be planning anything of the sort. For a time being. ‘’Listen to me. I know we don’t have the best relationship, but I’m not blind and I see that your interests do not lie in being the leader.’’

 

Thor casts a suspicious glance her way. This heart to heart is… weird to say the least. 

 

‘’I have an offer to make to you.’’ 

 

‘’I’m listening.’’

 

‘’You know our trade’s going down.’’

 

‘’Yes.’’ 

 

‘’But not why.’’

 

‘’Are you going to tell me?’’

 

Hela spins an umbrella in her hands. ‘’Well, I would, but… I don’t know if I can trust you.’’

 

‘’You’re the one to talk of trust.’’

 

‘’Fine, fine.’’ She sighs shooing away the guards. ‘’You too Skurge,’’ he tells her right-hand man, when the guy stays still. 

 

After all of them are out of earshot, she tells him to follow and leads him deeper into the warehouse complex. She lights a flashlight and leads him down to a lower level. 

 

‘’So,’’ Hela says as the make their way down the dark corridor. ‘’I worry for you. If you’d ask me, if you’d wanted to leave, I’d let you go, I swear it.’’

 

Oh, here we go, Thor thinks. Getting to the point.

 

‘’Why would I want to leave?’’ He asks, deadpan.

 

‘’To start off fresh, somewhere else.’’

 

‘’Why would I want to go somewhere all alone and leave it all behind? I like my life here, thank you.’’

 

‘’But it won’t be only about you, will it?’’ Hela counters.

 

‘’Why don’t you tell me exactly what you want, Hela?’

 

‘’Odin is old. He’s weak, unstable. We should join forces and take reign. Make changes.’’

 

Thor almost laughs out loud.

 

‘’What, you mean overthrow him?’’

 

For one second, Hela looks like she’ll shoot him then and there. Then, it passes and she shakes her head.

 

‘’He’s not a king to overthrow, brother,’’ She says. ‘’I do love him and I worry. I would never use force, but he’s one stubborn old man and he’s costing us. Think on it.’’

 

‘’I will.’’ Thor promises, but well… The only thing he is actually thinking of is getting out of this. To get the news to his father and his friend before it’s too late...

 

‘’I believe you have heard that our shipments were going missing.’’ She says. Thor gives her an incredulous look. ‘’Yes, Thor, the prices and stocks were not the problem. The transit was. Our shipments got raided couple of times. I suspected the Jotunheim, of course, but it appeared that they were not the ones to blame.’’ 

 

She opens a metal door to a small room and steps inside.

 

‘’Here,’’ she says, giving him the flashlight. ‘’Look.’’

 

Thor does look. There are couple of boxes lying around, he kneels down in front of one of them and wipes the dust off of it. They’re theirs. The shipments.

 

He looks up at her.

 

‘’You stole them.’’ He says, accusing.

 

‘’Quite the opposite,’’ She smirks, ‘’You stole them. I just found them.’’ 

 

Thor realizes what she’s about to do a second too late: the gun appears in her hands out of nowhere and she fires. ‘’fuck’’ hisses Thor, stumbling, falling to his knees. ‘’You fuckin bitch!’’

 

Hela backhands him with her armed hand across the face, then drags him deeper into the room and ties up his hands. ‘’What the fuck did I do to you?’’

 

‘’Oh, do stop with the dramatics,’’ She says,’’ It’s only a tranquilizer. If I wanted you dead, then dead you would be. Think, brother, for once in your entire life.’’

 

Thor tries his best to get free his hands, but his head is filled with buzzing sound. He can’t even see properly. He only sees vague shape of black heels walking away from him and the door closing, the only source of light going away with it. 

 

And then he’s alone.

 

‘’Hope you’re not afraid of the dark, little brother,’’ His sister’s mocking voice is the last thing he hears before his vision grows completely dark. ‘’Don’t worry. I’ll be back before you know it.’’

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a comment to motivate me to write more (cause i'm an attention hoe)


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